


In Which I Read Over Someone's Shoulder

by Archangel_Beth



Category: In Nomine
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Beth/pseuds/Archangel_Beth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo does not want to Know Too Much, thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which I Read Over Someone's Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [byzantienne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byzantienne/gifts), [fadeverb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeverb/gifts).



> These are fadeaccompli's named characters, and Byzantienne is to blame for the unnamed one.

"Look, it's not a bad plan," I tell my partner, who is older than dirt and five times as stubborn. "We will get _into_ the place, with all the students -- I've _been_ a student, remember? -- and then we will get out with..."

He'd like to argue with me, cut me off right there, but one of those aforementioned students has just sat down beside me. It's beside _me_ , and not oh-so-handsome Zhune, because...? I'm in a girl vessel again, so maybe it's solidarity? Or maybe she thinks he'd just try to bother her, since she smiles politely, puts in the earbuds, and pulls out one of those fancy new iPods, like a tiny bit of Media or Tech or... something. Do Not Disturb. Right, that's fine.

Despite that I can pick out a little music coming from those earbuds, Zhune does not want to chance a human hearing anything, doesn't want to have a tagalong for this, and already knows that there are no more seats on this train.

I'm going to hear about this later, but for now, he'll pretend to be a normal Djinn and sulk in the facing seat from me. Which is a pleasant change of pace for a while, but eventually... gets boring. Not that I am going to tell him this. For one, there is still this human here, listening to her music and...

Reading something? On that little music-player? What's Tech (or Lightning? Or Media?) been up to?

Text is a little small, but I can make it out without leaning on the woman's shoulder.

And make out my old Prince's -- my first old Prince's -- name. My seat-arm on the far side develops some cracks in the plastic while I tell myself not to get excited, it's just some religious book or maybe one of those Urban Fantasy things, it's not like "Belial" isn't one of the Names even humans throw around like niche actors in old movies...

And then I'm skimming while she taps the thing to turn the page, and...

> _Fire is an inherently treacherous tool -- one mistake, one careless moment, and it turns on you. Belial's Word doesn’t allow anyone to make such mistakes._

While I'm trying not to strangle -- what _is_ this? some kind of Asmodean manual? Sorcery e-book? -- the woman taps the screen, making the pages slide past, zip zip zip, and...

Is that what the other Princes think about Fire? The _truth_? (No, don't think about Penny, don't think about grabbing this and mailing it to him. Don't. Be. Stupid.)

And then it is suddenly very important for me to not be seen reading over this... person's... shoulder. Because something is very wrong when a Prince's _attunements_ are laid out, and there's something about dice, and we all know what _that_ means...

It means that I had better not draw Zhune's attention to this, or swipe the iPod, or do anything at all but pretend to be Just This Human Girl, because there is no telling what his cracked Djinn mind would do with that. So out loud, I mutter, "Look, we can't talk about it here. We'll talk about it at the next stop. All right?"

"Fine," he grunts. And maybe this time I'll let him win the argument _before_ he gets me into bed.


End file.
